


Call It a Dream

by wolfzaa



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Accidental Confession, Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Movie Reference, Pining, pining!Harvey, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:17:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8923882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfzaa/pseuds/wolfzaa
Summary: Harvey heard Mike’s voice and he saw Mike's face right in front of him the moment he opened his eyes, and concluded that it was only a dream; somewhere between his own fantasy and subconsciousness, where no one would be there to judge him.So Harvey reached out, and kissed the man.He was only dreaming... wasn't he?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song [Need You Now](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eM213aMKTHg) by Lady Antebellum.
> 
> Canon divergence after 4x07 where Mike didn't forgive Rachel and broke up with her. The story will set somewhere after the episode, maybe months after, but not yet Season 5.
> 
>  
> 
> By the way, for Thai version [หาอ่านได้ทางนี้เลยค่ะ](https://writer.dek-d.com/dek-d/writer/viewlongc.php?id=1197067&chapter=65)

 

Harvey knew he was dreaming.

Sure he was, because he remembered lying on his couch in the middle of Friday night, stupidly drunk the way he hadn’t been for a long damn time, and he was totally alone since he had turned down a hot chick he met at the bar after seeing his client.  She was hot, real hot, with short blonde hair that revealed her long pale neck, the red gorgeous dress that hugged her curves elegantly and those sharp cerulean blue eyes, but he could find a girl like this anywhere else and he wasn’t in the mood.  One night stand wasn’t going to do any good to him right now so he left without giving her any reason -- Jesus -- he never thought some day he would be against the idea of getting laid but he did it anyway.

Hours passed and his condo was too quiet he was frustrated with himself for coming back home alone.  At least that girl was smart and he liked her eyes since they reminded him of--- No, he wasn’t gonna go there.

Some kind of fact was still too hard to accept so he tried to suppress whatever happened inside his head the best he could, only to drain his energy faster than anything else until it became too heavy to carry on, just like now.  He had kept his feeling in since Sidwell snatched Mike from him.  Though the associate did come back where he belonged eventually, it was still too unsettling for Harvey.  His heart was heavy and his mind was clouded with exhaustion which of course wasn’t anything work-related.  Work couldn’t do such effects even though a glass of good whiskey sounded tempting after a long day of bullshit.  No, it was something else that went far beyond Harvey’s area of profession to get under his skin -- the main reason he stopped letting any men or women into his bed lately -- but he wasn’t gonna go there either.

Harvey might not have an eidetic memory, but he sure remembered what happened when he was drunk.  He remembered he opened his best scotch, not the _best_ he reserved for a worthy celebration, but the best for a time like this; pathetic and desperate, not that he would let the world know for the fact that Harvey Specter could feel, let alone be, any of them.  He also remembered he tried to call Donna and tell her he might be late for work tomorrow but he realized just in time that weekend was coming and ended up didn’t call anyone at all -- or he did -- but he didn’t remember saying anything and let his phone fall down onto the floor carelessly.

He remembered all of those, so he knew he was dreaming when he heard a very familiar voice calling out his name.

“Harvey,” there it go again, closer this time.  A warm hand placed on his left upper arm and lightly shook. “Hey, Harvey.”

He was dreaming, because there was no way in hell he could see anything like this when he was awake -- because he heard Mike’s voice and he was seeing Mike right in front of him the moment he opened his eyes.  Yes, he was talking about Mike Ross, his associate, his subordinate, his secret, the same college kicked-out fraud with the biggest brain and the brightest blue eyes that both gave him headache and a bloomed pride in his chest at the same time.  Mike’s face was a blur and Harvey dared not to close his eyes, he was sure the kid was going to disappear the moment he averted his focus.

He didn’t ask _‘Why are you here?’_  -- he didn’t have to.  He knew why.

Despite being an emotionless dickhead he pretended to be, Harvey knew exactly why.

He reached out and cupped the younger man’s cheek as he slid his thumb along the curve of those slightly parted lips.  Mike immediately flinched and shut his mouth tight, his eyes widened like a deer in the headlights.

Harvey’s eyes were half-opened, still dazed by sleepiness, but he knew exactly what he saw; the same thing he had seen a hundred times, something he wouldn’t admit even to himself when he woke up.

But this wasn’t reality.  This was a dream, somewhere between his own fantasy and subconsciousness where no one would be there to judge him.

“Harvey?”

Mike’s voice rang in his ears, soft and bewildered and concerned.  Of course, this kid was concerned.  Harvey wanted to laugh but couldn’t bring himself to, instead, he tugged Mike closer and pressed his lips against his chin.

Hm, wrong target.

Mike winced.  Harvey could catch his hitched breath and nervousness even in the hazy state.  The associate (in his dream, of course,) would be mostly shy but being nervous wasn’t anything new either, so Harvey dragged the kiss up to his mouth and whispered, “Don’t move.”

Mike was immediately paralyzed.

“Don’t go.”

His lips began to tremble as Harvey’s word went on.  Now that was new, since dream-Mike had never been anything but responsive and willing to a kiss, so Harvey tried to steady them against his.  He deliberately tucked Mike’s bottom lip with his teeth and soothed it with plenty of light kisses and a swipe of his tongue, just a little.

Mike sucked in a sharp breath, mumbling, “Harvey, I---”

“Shut up, Mike,” he cut in. “My dream, my call.” He tightened his grip on the kid’s nape before he added, “You’ve argued with me enough when I’m awake.”

There was a faint hint of mint and Red Bull mixed on Mike’s tongue as Harvey found himself inside his mouth, deepening the kiss.  Mike hesitated for a mere second before he finally gave in with one hand hanging onto his boss’ shoulder while the other one trying to balance himself on his elbow so he wouldn’t fully lay his weight on Harvey.  The senior partner knew how hard it was with the latter if Mike’s quivering arms were any indication -- too drowned into the kiss to concentrate on anything further than their crushing lips.  Therefore Harvey wrapped his free arm around Mike’s waist and swung him onto the leather couch so Mike’s focus would be on him and him only.  The older man let out a soft groan when he felt their bodies pressed together perfectly, more perfect than any other dream he ever had, especially with Mike trapped underneath him and his fingers running through Harvey’s already messed up hair.

Harvey wondered how long this would last.

He needed to memorize this: every movement of their lips against each other, every dance of their tongues and every touch of it, of Mike, of this thrill that rippled through his body; because Harvey knew he couldn’t have any of it when he opened his eyes once again.

“Don’t go,” he whispered as he ground his groin against Mike’s.  The blonde gasped softly.  His lips parted for air and every shift of their bodies caused them to brush with Harvey’s in the most maddening way.  Their breath mingled and that little space between their mouths was killing him.  Harvey wanted to close the gap so badly yet mesmerized by the feeling of kissing without any real touch; only fleeting, only almost, only to hear Mike’s whimper loud and clear at the right friction.

Harvey wouldn’t let this happen if he were awake.  He wasn’t a horny teenager making out and sure he would take this to the next level, making it right, but he didn’t give a damn right now.  He could do whatever he wanted in his dream and Harvey’s mind was already floating away.  He didn’t even know how long they stayed like that; lips almost untouched with their lower bodies crushing together, his hands held Mike’s head still, preventing him from throwing it back in pleasure, while Mike’s hands roamed all over his back and shoulders.  He heard a desperate, “Oh, fuck.  Please, please---” and felt Mike was trying to lift his head up to properly kiss him, but Harvey wanted, needed, to prolong this, so he didn’t let go.  He didn’t want it to stop even though their rhythm was becoming unstoppable.  He didn’t want to wake up yet.  Not right now.  Not forever.

He murmured a quiet, “Don’t ever leave me,” just because he can, just because no one in the real world would know where or whom his heart was given to.  Mike let out a strangled cry as his whole body shuddered, and Harvey finally kissed him.

_“I love you.”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mike couldn’t believe he’d lose his control this easily.

And now he didn’t know what to do.

He shouldn’t have let it start.  He also shouldn’t have received Harvey’s call either, but who was he to ignore his boss?  It was Friday and it was late, but working with Harvey included working over ordinary billable hours and Mike was far used to it already, so he waited for a vicious order when he picked up the phone with a simple “Yes?” and prepared himself for an overnight task.  Strangely, there was nothing coming from the end of the line -- at least not Harvey’s voice.

“Harvey?” Mike raised his eyebrow.  He heard a muffled sound coming through but still no answer.  He started to wonder if Harvey accidentally called him when he heard a loud thud. “Harvey?  Are you there?”

Another crash and a dead silence, and Mike actually started to worry.

He knew it was stupid, catching a cab to Harvey’s condo just because of _that_ , but he wasn’t used to Harvey’s silence on the phone, not when everything just got back to normal.  It could be anything.  Maybe Harvey was too busy rolling some hot girl on his sheet and cared less about his phone’s well-being.  Mike cursed internally for his impulsive decision at the possibility.  At least Josh, Harvey’s doorman, let him up without any further comment so Mike hoped he wouldn’t interrupt his boss’ sex life.  Did he just think about Harvey and sex in the same sentence?  He shouldn’t.  He really, really shouldn’t.   _Oh, my god._

He knocked and waited for a whole five minutes before he decided to use a spare key (Donna gave him to retreat some files Harvey had left in his apartment a couple days ago and he didn’t have time to return it).  He didn’t know what was going to happen behind the door at that time.  He didn’t know it would change everything.

First of all, he didn’t expect to find Harvey sleeping on the couch like this.

He wasn’t so sure what exactly he was expecting, but absolutely not the picture of his boss in faded t-shirt and somewhat comfortable sweatpants, lying still on his ridiculously expensive sofa.  There was an empty glass and a bottle of scotch on the table.  He found that goddamn cell phone on the floor along with a pile of fallen books -- they were on the table the last time Mike was here -- and that should explain the crash he heard earlier.

“Really Harvey?” Mike scoffed. “Are you drunk, dude?”

No response, only a soft mumble of a few words before Harvey shifted in his sleep.  His always perfect slicked back hair was a bit out of place, much to Mike’s surprise.  There were also slight dark circles under his eyes and his features screamed tiredness.  Three or four years ago, Mike would find it hard to believe that the great Harvey Specter could be tired or worn out or even _feel_ , but he was only human, wasn’t he?  Mike didn’t blame him for trying to hide his weaknesses, and while the man was a master of it, Mike knew how vulnerable he could be from time to time.

Vulnerable Harvey was rare, but here he was, right in front of Mike’s very own eyes, and he somehow couldn’t help but adore him.

Mike picked up Harvey’s phone and books and placed them next to the glass.  The scent of alcohol was easily detected when Mike approached him up close.  Harvey was moaning, though, like he was having a nightmare or something and Mike didn’t like the sound of it.  He wanted to touch the frown between Harvey’s eyebrows and wipe it off but it seemed a lot like molesting to Mike, maybe because he knew he wouldn’t stop if he ever started touching Harvey’s face, so he landed his hand on the safer place -- his arm.

“Harvey.” Mike shook him. “Hey, Harvey.”

Harvey’s eyes fluttered open a few times.  That was when things happened.

A lot of things.

It started with Harvey’s thumb tracing his lips but it surely didn’t stop right there.  Mike didn’t know what to do, or think, or even feel.  His heart was pounding so hard it hurt and he could actually die like this, beneath Harvey and his perfect body and his talented mouth and the most intense gaze he had ever seen in his life.  Still, he was quite sure Harvey thought he was only dreaming.

Mike knew it had been some time since the last time he got laid.  He had no time for it after he broke up with Rachel, too occupied with helping her move back to her place and tons of workload, and he didn’t have a heart for a meaningless one-night-stand either.  Yet, he didn’t know that he would be aroused this fast under Harvey’s touch, and hands were fixed on Mike’s face during the whole session, _holy shit_.  Mike didn’t even know that he would lose all of his control and almost come in his pants like a goddamn teenager, just from hearing Harvey tell him not to leave.

Then he whispered, _“I love you,”_ and that was when a sheer panic slapped Mike as his body went suddenly rigid.

Harvey’s mouth was still on his, kissing him into the next world, but Mike really _needed_ to get a grip on himself no matter how wonderful kissing Harvey was.  He couldn’t do this.  No.  Not like this.  He, for one, might have a feeling for his own boss for the longest time -- since this was Harvey Specter we were talking about and Mike would choose him over his life, over Rachel, over everything on earth, again and again -- but Harvey didn’t know what he was doing right now.  Mike couldn’t take advantage of the man who dragged him out of hell and gave him somewhere to belong.  He couldn’t let this continue.  He _can’t_ \-- because any further and he certainly wouldn’t be able to force his eyes shut again without replaying the picture of Harvey’s eyes or lips in his head, or the feeling of his body heat all over him, or the husky sound of his confession Mike didn’t know if it was even true or just the spur of the moment.  It was too surreal.  Too much.  He couldn’t just---

Thus after a long moment of struggling with his body, Mike succeeded in pushing the other man away and curled himself into the corner of the couch.  He was panting hard, both from physical frustration and kind of mental panic, while Harvey scrambled on the floor with a soft grunt.  He rubbed the back of his head which must had hit the wooden floor hard enough to wake him up -- that was Mike’s fault -- totally Mike’s fault.

“What the hell---” the older lawyer muttered as he shook his head slightly, eyes unfocused for a moment before he noticed an intruder. “Mike?”

The associate gulped, couldn’t find himself a word to explain due to the lack of blood in his brain, but oh, he could perfectly feel its heat underneath his cheeks and somewhere down below the belt.  He didn’t need a mirror to realize how much of a mess he was right now; from his flushed face, disheveled hair, ragged breathing as though he had run a hundred miles, to a not-so-little uncomfortable particular part under his jeans -- where Mike quietly hoped Harvey wouldn’t notice him shoving a black-and-white cushion up to hide the evidence.

What should he do?  Should he say something?  Should he leave?  Should he pretend as if nothing happened?  Should he freak out?  He was already freaking out, though.  He didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Why are you here?”

Harvey’s face was stern and his voice dropped low enough to send a chill down Mike’s spine.  He had dealt with the infamous _tell-me-or-you’ll-regret-it-for-the-rest-of-your-life_ look Harvey used to threaten people with ease for a thousand times, but not in this scenario, not anywhere near _this_.

“You… um...” Mike stuttered, his voice sounded too small for his liking. “You called me?”

Harvey quirked his eyebrow, not even convinced.  His skill of reading people was as impressive as always, in spite of the fact that he just regained his consciousness.

“How did you get in here?”

Mike felt offensive all of a sudden. “Hey, it’s not my fault that Donna gave me your key two days ago for Hamilton files _and_ you’re the one who called me,” he pointed out. “So here I am.”

“Did I tell you to come here?”

“Uh, no, but---”

“Then why are you here?”

Mike groaned at Harvey’s deposition-intimidating voice. “What am I supposed to do?  Ignore you?  Leave you alone?---”

“Exactly.”

“---Call Donna?” Harvey gave him a death glare while Mike rolled his eyes indignantly. “It’s a pretty long day, Harvey, so please…” _Don’t make this more complicated than it was_ , was left unspoken as he waved his hands in the air.

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose.  Mike caught him stole a quick glance in exasperation and bet he must have sensed that something had happened but didn’t want to admit it, or at least didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“What did I do?” Harvey asked hopefully.

Mike chew his inner cheek. “You were… dreaming.”

Harvey’s eyes suddenly flicked down to his mouth and Mike winced, hoping there wouldn’t be any _I’ve-been-thoroughly-kissed_ sign left.  Harvey traced after every movement as his eyes darkened in realization of the situation.  He grumbled a harsh, “Shit,” through his gritted teeth and avoided Mike’s eyes.  His jaw tensed up and his expression went cold blank, shutting his heart down like when he had always done with his previous emotion talk.  Mike knew him long enough to see that a heartless arrogant  _I-only-care-about-myself_ dickhead Harvey was coming in order to protect himself from his own rushing emotions, but seriously?  That version of Harvey sucked.

Therefore Mike blurted out, “Shit as in _‘This is bullshit’_ or _‘Shit, I’m in trouble”_ or _‘Shit, I don’t even know what’s happening here’_?”

Their eyes locked together.  Mike didn’t want to give Harvey a time to hide inside his shell so he kept staring at him, ignoring his own pulsing nervousness.  Then Harvey’s eyes flickered and Mike forgot how to breathe for a mere second.  The emotion behind those irises was too raw, too intense, and if Mike dared to call, too desperate.  What kind of situation could make Harvey this vulnerable?

_What if he didn’t say it out of the spur of the moment?_

“It’s _‘What shit have I gotten myself into?’_ kind of shit.  Happy?”

Harvey answered after a long while, a sardonic tone in his voice was sharp enough to make his ears bleed but Mike didn’t make any other comment, still confounded by the possibility of the event.

“Can I get a drink?” he asked eventually.

“Yeah,” Harvey agreed with another sigh. “Help yourself.  I’m gonna get myself some water.  I think I’ve drunk too much for one night.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Harvey stared at the glass of water, too overwhelmed by reality.

_Jesus, what has he done?_

He didn’t dare to repeat the question.  Him, Mike, dreaming -- all three words together could mean only one thing -- and Harvey wasn’t ready to face it at all.  Plus, Mike’s reaction was enough to tell everything he wanted to know -- those swollen red lips, a flush on his cheeks that went down to his pale neck, a pillow that intentionally lied on his thighs -- everything just shouted that he had taken advantage of his own associate.

He couldn’t do this.

Harvey glanced back at the blonde across the room.  Mike was fidgeting in his seat, trying to hide whatever happened in his pants and Harvey took it as a positive sign.  At least Mike didn’t disgust him, though the fact that Mike could sue him for sexual harassment was still there.

It was already a quarter after one.  He had a long day, and he couldn’t sort this thing out right now, not with his foggy brain and his stupidly aching heart.

This was bad.  Real bad.

Harvey strolled back after he regained his cool posture and sit on an armchair across from his uninvited guest.  Mike already finished a glass and started to pour himself more.  Harvey sighed once again, too much alcohol never did any good, so he reached for the bottle and grabbed it from Mike’s hand.

“That’s enough.”

“Harvey, c’mon.  I need it.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I can’t do this sober.  I need to---”

“No means no, Mike.”

“Just give me the goddamn drink, Harvey!  You _kissed_ me!”

The blunt word was like a splash of freezing cold water on Harvey’s face.  The tension between them thickened immediately they could almost touch it with bare hands, and for once in a lifetime, Harvey couldn’t find a word to strike back.

Mike was seemingly stunned by his own words as well.  His clear blue eyes widened with an alarming glimpse of terror, like he was afraid that saying _it_ out loud would crush everything they had together down to pieces.  Thus he put down the glass and gazed away, clutching the pillow on his thighs so hard he almost ripped it into two.

Harvey took another sip of his water.  This was why he hated having emotions so much.  It would lead you to one problem after another and definitely would break you to the very core.

“It won’t happen again,” was the only thing he could say.

Maybe he shouldn’t open the scotch in the first place.  Appreciating liquor was one thing, but being drunk?  That was another.  Totally another.  Maybe he shouldn’t turn down that girl at the bar, shouldn’t try to make a phone call when he was drunk, and shouldn’t even dare to touch Mike, even in his dream.

“Do you want it to happen?” Mike asked quietly, pulling Harvey back from his own thoughts.

Maybe Harvey shouldn’t have a feeling for him right from the start.  Not like this.  Not at all.

“Intentionally, no.”

“I didn’t ask if you had _planned_ it,” the younger man corrected. “Do you _want_ it, Harvey?  To _happen_.”

Harvey didn’t answer.  He couldn’t lie to Mike, not after everything they both had been through, especially not after all those lies Mike had faced before his breakup with Rachel.  Harvey had seen him broken enough after the Logan incident… He couldn’t bring himself to look into Mike’s eyes and say no when he wanted it, desperately _needed_ it, to happen.

Thus his answer was silence.

“You said my name in your dream, you know?  You could identify me,” Mike continued slowly as if he was walking through a field full of landmines. “You told me to trust you, so now it’s your turn, Harvey.  I’m not going anywhere, so…”

“Mike,” he whispered, “Don’t do this.”

It wasn’t a plea, but close enough and Mike knew it.

Harvey dropped his eyes to the floor, blaming everything that led him to this.  If there was anyone who could read him, it was Mike.  It had always been Mike.

He didn’t notice when Mike stood up from his seat and walked pass the table between them until their knees touched.  Harvey looked up and found the same cerulean blue that drew him in a few inches away.

“Please,” Mike whispered, “Don’t tell me I read this wrong.”

Then he kissed him.

The reasonable part remained inside Harvey snapped.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, last chance,” Harvey whispered breathlessly against Mike’s lips. “If you want to back out, you have to do it now.”

Mike shook his head hazily, shifting his position until he was fully comfortable and content in Harvey’s lap, his arms tangled around the older man’s neck and his eyes half-lidded with growing desire.

“ _Now, before you bother telling me it's impossible_ …”

“ _It’s perfectly possible,_  yeah Cobb, I get it.” Harvey leaned their foreheads together, the tip of his nose slightly nuzzled against Mike’s. “I thought you’re straight.”

Mike huffed an incredulous snort. “Seriously?  How could you not see that I’m always gay for you?”

“I don’t know.  Is the top still spinning?”

“Oh, shut up.  I’ve dreamed about this for--- I don’t know, years?  Don’t make me question my consciousness right now,” groaned Mike as he embedded every detail of the previous event in the safest place of his brain where he wouldn’t forget, not that he ever forgot anything, for that matter. “Gosh, you even said you love me.”

He didn’t mean to voice it out but it was too late.  The body beneath him tensed up instinctively and Mike feared for a second if he broke the magic between them.  Fortunately, Harvey relaxed his muscle and dryly grunted, “That doesn’t count.”

There was no real fire in his voice; thus Mike arched his eyebrow in a mock disbelief. “But you said it.”

“I was dreaming.”

“You love me.”

“I do,” a pause, “Not.”

“Come on,” Mike mumbled. “Say it again.”

Harvey kissed him instead, rough and hard and sloppy.  Mike gasped regardless, feeling a light burn on his tongue as Harvey bit down teasingly -- maybe a little too possessively -- but Mike was in no position to complain anyway.  Harvey’s mouth tasted like expensive scotch; rich and addictive and harsh and gentle, and left him with a soft satisfied moan.  Harvey could steal away his breath like this, even his control, or his heart, or his whole world, and Mike wouldn’t even care.

“Yeah,” the blonde murmured after Harvey released him to restore some air to their lungs. “I love you too.”

Harvey hummed. “Get me a totem.”

“I’m not supposed to touch your totem.”

“I don’t care.  Spin the top or whatever.”

Mike burst out laughing and he saw corners of Harvey’s eyes crinkled in the most beautiful way he had ever seen.  Nonetheless, he searched his jeans pocket for a coin before carelessly flipping it into the air.

“Let’s see if it stops.” The associate chuckled at the clinking sound when the round metal hit the floor.  Harvey didn’t take his eyes of him the whole time, nor he did wait for the result, as he pulled Mike into another long passionate kiss.

The coin stopped after a few seconds.

Nobody cared anyway.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inception (2010) references:  
>  _“Now, before you bother telling me it's impossible…”_  
>  _“No, it's perfectly possible. It's just bloody difficult.”_
> 
> (and yeah, the totem)
> 
> Btw, this work is non-beta. Kudos and comments are always welcome and thanks for reading this! ;)


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